Page 116 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

Damned old tub pitching about. Not a bit funky. Her pale
blue scarf loose in the wind with her hair.

All dimpled cheeks and curls,
Your head it simply swirls.

Seaside girls. Torn envelope. Hands stuck in his
trousers’ pockets, jarvey off for the day, singing. Friend of
the family. Swurls, he says. Pier with lamps, summer
evening, band,

Those girls, those girls,
Those lovely seaside girls.

Milly too. Young kisses: the first. Far away now past.
Mrs Marion. Reading, lying back now, counting the
strands of her hair, smiling, braiding.
A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his backbone,

increasing. Will happen, yes. Prevent. Useless: can’t move.
Girl’s sweet light lips. Will happen too. He felt the
flowing qualm spread over him. Useless to move now.
Lips kissed, kissing, kissed. Full gluey woman’s lips.
Better where she is down there: away. Occupy her.
Wanted a dog to pass the time. Might take a trip down
there. August bank holiday, only two and six return. Six

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